As Your Voice Fades
by Sha Sarika
Summary: Two bands. One dream. Divine. Half A Chance. Love blooms where it doesn't belong and it wilts where it should stay alive. Drama. Romance. Comedy. What will it take to make it big? What lengths will people go to for fame? Complexity. Read if you want more.
1. I Had A Life

u b Disclaimers and Such /b /u 

i -Aya. Yuki, Yumi and Max belong to my friend. I have her permission to use them. The name "Divine" is mine, I gave it to her.

-Aimi, Tamotsu, Kioshi, Kin and 'Half a Chance' are mine. I have my own permission to use them.

-Shin, Takumi, Hachi, Nana…other characters from the manga are copyrighted to Ai Yazawa.

-This fan fiction does b not /b take place during the manga although some events will be based loosely on things that happened in the original story. /i 

-PAIRINGS: OC Aimi X Takumi Takumi X Hachi OC Tamotsu X OC Aimi OC Yuki X OC Kioshi Nana X Ren Yasu X OC Yumi OC Kin X Naoki OC Aya X Shinichi

I Had A Life+++++++++++++

** center b Aimi Tanaka /b **

_i"I had a life" /i _

She was just a child, young, impressionable, naïve. Her days were spent at school with friends; third grade was the beginning of her life. TV is said to give children negative and positive impressions, Aimi got her life out of television.

"Daddy, I want to sing!" She begged her father, early one morning during breakfast.

He flipped through the paper, ignoring her words as he always did. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because, I want to be pretty, people who sing are pretty."

Her mother picked up the dirty dishes from the table and placed them in the sink. "What's wrong with letting her take lessons? She's young; it'll only be a hobby."

The middle-aged man sighed as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and index finger. "Very well…" He agreed with much reluctance.

Aimi threw her hands up and cheered. "Thank you, father!"

"She's tone def" The music instructor, a sweet, young lady spoke with soft words.

"So she can't sing?"

"No she's fully capable; it'll just take some work…"

"Will this cost extra?"

"No, you pay per lesson so it'll only be a few more lessons."

"Please dad! I want to learn how to sing!"

He sighed, heavily. "Fine,"

"Alright, see you next week." The lady smiled and looked over Aimi's father's shoulder to see that her next pupil had arrived.

Aimi looked and immediately recognized the child. He was in her class; he would always play alone at break time and eat his lunch at a table by himself. He sang? She blinked and walked past him on her way to her car, holding her father's hand.

"Can I sit with you?" Aimi approached the boy with no caution, her bento box in hand and her kindness in mind.

The boy blinked slightly but smiled at her. "Um…sure…"

There was silence as the two ate together.

"My name's Aimi…" She introduced herself finally.

"I'm Tamotsu." He said shyly to her.

"Tamotsu, I like that name." She giggled.

He drew back slightly and blushed. "Thanks…I like your name too..."

Another silence, only this time it wasn't as awkward. It was merely a silence between two new friends who had nothing to say at the moment.

"You were at my singing lessons." They both said at the same moment. What were the chances?

Middle school came quickly for the two friends and they had grown apart over the summer.

Tamotsu's family had gone to Tokyo for eight week's straight and due to the long distance, his cell phone didn't work and he wasn't allowed to use the hotel phone…not that it would have done him any good if he was allowed.

Aimi's family had gone on vacation as well, to America, not as exciting as Tokyo and Aimi certainly did wish she was back in Japan; everyone looked at her weird when she tried to ask something in Japanese, as if their language was so much easier to understand.

On the first day of their seventh grade, Aimi already had her friends and Tamotsu had his. For the entire year, the closest to a conversation they ever had was a quick _'hello'_ in the hallways.

Aimi was madly in love with him, despite their young age, she had known him for nearly half her life and he had grown on her ever since the first day they met in singing lessons.

Since grade two, Tamotsu had taken up guitar, he was pretty good for his age and he practiced it a lot, lucky for him, his parents supported his love for music…

"This has grown into much more than a hobby Marika!"

"But, Hoshi, she enjoys it so much, we can't take it away from her"

"She thinks she's going to go somewhere! She is not going to get a career out of this!"

"You can't be sure of that, girls not much older than Aimi get are getting signed more often these days!"

"That's because they have talent, Marika!! You need talent to go places!"

"Hoshi, she has a voice and it means something! It's not like she's quitting school over this!"

"Who knows what she may do?! If she goes anywhere then all ties between her and this family will be broken!"

Aimi stood outside of her parent's bedroom, listening to the entire argument. Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes welled with tears.

The door opened and her mother walked out. "Aimi…you didn't hear all that did you?"

Aimi nodded and all she did was run, she rushed to the door and ran out without putting her shoes on.

She ran to the only place she could think of, Tamotsu's house was only a few blocks away; it wasn't too far for her to keep her stamina up.

What an argument to hear as she was just about to graduate, she had gone through so much during her high school years, love, hope, betrayal, sex. She was just getting over her major crush on Tamotsu, now knowing that he didn't return her feelings but he was still the closest to her.

It was raining that day and the sweet sound of the i _pitter patter /i _mixed with her footsteps i _splish splish /i _and the sound of her racing heart i _th-thump _. /i 

She finally reached the door and took a minute to catch her breath before knocking. Tamotsu was the one to answer her and she looked up at him, her long copper hair stuck to her face, her clothes soaked and her makeup running down her cheeks.

"Take me with you to Tokyo!" So what if all contact between her and her family would be cut, it wouldn't be so bad would it?

_ i Dear Diary,_

_I realized today that I want to sing. Maybe it's because I have a passion for it, maybe it's just some twisted way to get back at my parents but…Tamotsu told me in an e-mail-since that seems to be the only time we communicate-that he was going to move to Tokyo immediately after graduation. After I heard my parents arguing I rushed over and begged him to take me with him._

_Dear Diary,_

_I used to write in you because I had something to say that I thought no one would understand but now I have to write in you because of a new problem I have on my hands._

_I told my father I was going to Tokyo to pursue my music career. He argued with me…he didn't want me to go. Not because he'd miss me but because he thought my dream was stupid._

_I continued to argue with him and he pushed me. I hit my head on the corner of the table._

_The first person I saw when I woke up was my father. I smiled at him and said "I'm going to Tokyo"_

_He said "If you go there, then I'm cutting all ties between you and this family…"_

_I'm on the flight as I write this entry._

_Oh right, the problem…_

_Well you see…_

_The Doctor said that my memory was fucked up when I hit my head. He said my mind might put memories together and I might forget some things. I'm on a medication that's supposed to help though…_

_I hope I can forget all this but with my luck it'll remain etched in my mind forever. /i /center _


	2. I Had A Black Dress

center u Chapter 2: /u 

** b Kin Erizawa /b **

_ i "I had a black dress" /i _

She stood there, the wind messed up her long, wavy black hair as she stood there. The priest droned on and on and on about the deceased.

Why was she there? At the funeral of a man she didn't even know? At the funeral of a man who was practically a stranger to her? Who was this man? And why was she mourning him with a black dress? A black dress that fit her adolescent curvature, a black dress she had bought with her long saved money. Why spend so much money on something she was going to wear once? Why waste it on someone she didn't even know?

Not a tear was shed at this funeral… not from her anyways although the people standing around her were crying, couples held each other, comforted one another and held back tears of their own.

Several of this man's closest friends were there, crying, wearing suits and elegant black veils that looked like they cost hundreds of dollars-she was wearing a knock off from a surplus store- and they all had something to say about him. They were all talking about how great he was, how well they knew him. The occasional joke was made to brighten the mood but Kin didn't laugh at these nor did she cry at reminiscence of him.

Great? How great of a man was he really? She might seem cold by thinking this but it was true. She really didn't see what was so great about him.

Then again, how could she judge a man she didn't even know? How could she come to a conclusion of who he was when he was a stranger to her? A mere acquaintance in her life.

She watched as the casket was lowered into the grave, the crowd threw single flowers and plentiful bouquets wrapped with red ribbons. White flowers, pink flowers, even a few roses and carnations were thrown in there.

Kin had nothing to add to the pile, not a word, not a flower, not a thought.

Who was this man you ask? Who was this stranger?

The funeral ended and everyone left, the clouds left the atmosphere dull and bland but she stood there and she stared down at the mahogany casket that held the corpse.

She kissed the tips of her fingers and blew on them in the direction of the coffin.

"Goodbye…whoever you are…" Her voice held a solemn tone as she walked away from the funeral of the man she didn't know…

Her Father…

She unlocked the door to her car and sat in the driver's seat, her fingers tightening around the wheel and she bawled, hiccupping loudly with each set of shallow inhales and breathless exhales. Why tears? Why now? Why her? She had just lost her father and she hadn't even expressed her loss at his funeral, she barely cared, until of course realization struck.

She leaned her body against the seat and tilted her head backwards, staring at the roof of the car. She was alone now, all alone with nowhere to go, sitting in her car after a funeral.

A shrill scream escaped her lips as she stomped her foot hard on the gas pedal, it was a good thing the key wasn't in the ignition.

Tokyo. He mentioned Tokyo once, mentioned he had been there, and told her about how great it was, about how she would love it there and that he would take her there one day.

He couldn't very well take her there now though, could he? So she'd have to take herself. /center 


	3. I Had A Bruised Arm

center u Chapter 3: /u 

** b Kioshi Daazi /b **

_ i "I had a bruised arm" /i _

Tossed aside again, screaming, shouting, glass breaking and he hid his ear from the noise. His father had snapped ever since his mother died five years ago. He always went on and on about how it should have been Kioshi and not her who passed on. He would spend hours at a time shouting with redundancy about how he was nothing, how he would never be anything, how he should die.

Kioshi had had enough, he stood up against his father's throw and he stood up, calmly without any words and he walked towards the door, drowning out his father's shouts and rants as he closed the door behind him.

Where would he go now?

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He supposed that he should have grabbed some of his stuff before walking out. He reached into his pocket, feeling his bank card. He remembered that he had some money on his bank card, enough anyway to buy himself a new bass, a few new clothes and something extra if he really needed it.

Right now all he needed was a cure, a cure to his problem, anything that would take this pain away and let him forget about his life even for a moment. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets and walked down the lit streets of this Tokyo night.

He visited a pawn shop and bought a new bass that looked almost brand new and a case to accompany it. The next item he bought was something he probably didn't need but something he could use to forget.

As the needle pierced the sensitive skin in the bend of his elbow he clenched his teeth hard into the leather strap and when he pulled the object out he released the pressure and threw it on the ground. What was he even thinking? He had a cure for his pain; he had something to temporarily take the pain away but now…

Now his cure was his new problem. /center 


End file.
